


Her Favourite Pearls

by Wolfsbride



Series: Tumblr Tales [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Bondage and Discipline, Corporal Punishment, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Older Woman/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:51:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbride/pseuds/Wolfsbride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond finally gets that bollocking M has been promising.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Favourite Pearls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyDuchess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDuchess/gifts), [Persiflage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Ее любимое ожерелье](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7884358) by [fandom_gerontophilia_2016](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_gerontophilia_2016/pseuds/fandom_gerontophilia_2016)



It’s late and Six is dark and almost deserted. The only people left are the guards outside, the head of Six herself and the bane of her existence, Bond. One of the interrogation cells, normally empty, is being put to use.

Bond stands in the middle of the stark room, naked. There’s a chain dangling from the ceiling to which a hook is attached. His arms are stretched over his head, not uncomfortably so, but enough to delineate the muscles of his nude body. His wrists are bound by a long rope of pearls – pearls which M has been wearing all day. They’re still warm from her body. 

The loops of the pearls are caught by the hook but the chain is long enough that there is no tension and Bond is able to hold his position easily. M circles him slowly, like a shark drawn by the scent of blood. Her jacket lies carelessly over the back of the lone chair. The top two buttons of her blouse are unfastened, displaying her ample cleavage. 

She stops when she’s standing in front of him once more. “Ask me how my day was, Bond?” Her voice is low.

Bond swallows; clears his throat. “Ma’am, I…”

“ _Ask_ me!”

Bond licks his lips. “How was your day, ma’am?”

M’s eyes narrow. “I spent four hours being raked over the coals by the Prime Minister, the Foreign Minister and the head of the Joint Intelligence Committee. _Four_ hours, Bond! You weren’t even back on British soil and they were baying for your blood. And because you _never_ bloody well check in, I couldn’t even begin to justify your behaviour!”

M’s bosom is heaving. Her blouse strains to contain her breasts. “I had to stand there and let them question my judgement, my leadership, my _loyalty_ because you can’t seem to complete a mission without blowing everything to kingdom come!”

Bond shakes his head. “Ma’am, I…”

“Be quiet! I told you once that the next time you stepped out of line it would be one time too many. Since my verbal reprimands seem to mean nothing to you, let’s try something different. And Bond.” She looks up and then back at him. “Those are my favourite pearls. Have a care.”

She moves around behind him and places a hand on his right shoulder blade. He twitches but otherwise remains still. She traces the scars on his back lightly and he quivers under her touch. Flattening her palm, she runs her hand down the slope of his back to the curve of his arse. She stops and he inhales harshly. 

She waits, drawing the moment out and then smoothes her hand over the cheek of his arse. Bond’s breath stutters and he shifts. She strokes his arse for a minute enjoying the feel of him. Then she draws her hand back and smacks him hard on the right arse cheek. 

“Rule 1: Never, _ever_ embarrass me like that again.”

Bond hisses loudly but manages to suppress the reflex to jerk away.

Her palm stings but she prefers this to using a paddle, where it would be all too easy to let her anger carry her away. She doesn’t want to damage Bond; just make him listen. 

She switches to his left cheek on the next blow. “Rule 2: You _will_ check in more than when you _feel_ like it.”

The third blow lands on his right cheek again. “Rule 3: You _will_ not cause undue mayhem and destruction.”

She continues, alternating where her blows land. Now the only sound in the room is the slap of her palm against Bond’s arse and his shaky hitching breaths. He jerks and shudders but never so violently as to endanger her pearls. She’s rather proud of him.

After several minutes, Bond’s arse is a pale red and M’s palm throbs, though not as badly as Bond’s rear, M wagers. She’s just about to strike him again when he cries out.

“I’m sorry!”

M stops immediately. She lets her palm lie on his rounded flesh. The heat from his skin warms her palm. “Sorry for what?” She doesn’t want a knee jerk apology. She wants to know he understands how close he’d come to dooming them both.

“Everything you said,” he gasps. “For embarrassing you. For endangering your job.” He chokes out a sob. “God, I’m so sorry.” 

M caresses him and then goes around to face him again. There are tears running down his cheeks. She lifts her hand and brushes them away with her thumb. He sniffs and leans into her touch. 

“Lift up,” she says quietly. 

Bond stands on tip toe and carefully eases the pearls twisted around his wrists off the hook. He lowers his arms and rests them around M’s shoulders. Slumping forward, he tucks his face into the crook of her neck. “I really am sorry,” he mutters.

M rubs her hand over his cropped hair, petting him soothingly. “Why James? Why do you insist on frustrating me so?”

“I just… I wanted you to pay attention.”

M stops and then squeezes the back of Bond’s neck. “Silly boy. You _have_ my attention. Why do you think it drives me mad when you behave recklessly?”

Bond’s breath catches. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs again.

“Never mind that just now. Stand up.”

Bond straightens, slowly lifting his bound arms free. M steps back and he lowers them so that she can free his wrists. She loops the pearls back around her neck and rubs the inside of his wrists. “Get dressed. You can see me home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for agecannotwitherher (LadyDuchess), who posted [ this prompt on Tumblr.](http://agecannotwitherher.tumblr.com/post/63354875229/picture-prompt-anyone-you-know-who-im-thinking)
> 
> Also, the line about Bond stepping out of line was directly inspired by astolat's deliciously lovely [Queen of Spades](http://archiveofourown.org/works/577745)


End file.
